For One Night Only
by scifiromance
Summary: Seven and Chakotay share a surreal Halloween when Chakotay has to come to Seven's aid at short notice... Halloween themed C/7. :) Rating may change.
1. Chapter 1

**A/n: Hi everyone! I know you're all waiting for updates of long-running fics but I came up with this idea which has a slight Halloween theme and just had to write down! It's set soon after the episode "Survival Instinct". I hope you all enjoy. **

Seven paused uncertainly as she approached the Mess Hall's doorway. Even through the thick titanium door panels she could make out torrents of conversation and roars of raucous laughter, sounds which rather than putting her at ease or filling her with pleasant anticipation made her question the wisdom of going in. Almost two years on Voyager had taught her that she was not well suited to attending parties. However, when she thought of what her other options were, either regenerating or returning to Astrometrics, she flinched despite herself, glad that there was no one present in the hallway to see her. The past few weeks had been…difficult. First there had been the encounter with the Equinox, which Voyager had thankfully escaped victorious, but not before the deranged Captain Ransom had had time to tamper with the Doctor's programme and order the hologram to torture her, something the EMH had taken several long, exacting hours to then carry out. She'd forgiven the Doctor now that his true personality had returned to him, or at least had been trying valiantly to, after all, who knew better than her the guilt of being forced into terrible actions? Still though, the memories stalked her brain, excruciatingly vivid every time she stepped into her alcove. Accordingly, she'd been regenerating for the minimal amount of time possible each night for over a month now. The human saying "to forgive but not forget" was certainly holding true for her, painfully so. That dilemma had been compounded recently, but with her as the antagonist, when she'd discovered that many years ago, her desperation to remain within the Collective had condemned three individuals to death, ruining their bodies to the point where they could not live without the Collective. The knowledge of the timeline the Doctor had given them would soon be running out, that their short lives as individuals may already be over, had been haunting Seven all day in the solitude of Astrometrics until she could bear it no longer. She released a weak, frustrated sigh, she needed a distraction, and even a party would serve that purpose tonight.

As she walked in she was confronted with an explosion of orange and black decorations draped over every table and hanging from every protrusion on the ceiling. There were extravagantly pointed black hats used as centrepieces, brooms propped against every wall and, most perplexing of all, pumpkins dispersed everywhere, carved to look like a warped version of a human face. She'd heard from Tuvok that Halloween was the most illogical of all the human traditions, quite an achievement, but she was starting to think he'd understated the sheer strangeness of it as Tom, Harry and B'Elanna detached from one of the crowds and headed towards her.

"Happy Halloween Seven!" Tom declared warmly, his grin widening in gentle amusement as he saw the thoroughly confused expression written all over the young woman's normally unreadable face. "You like my costume?"

Seven studied him intently, becoming more bemused by the second. She couldn't define his costume as such. All he was wearing was a torn version of his uniform and some face makeup to make it appear as if he were particularly pale as well as wounded. "What are you supposed to be?" she asked tentatively, not sure if she really wanted to know.

"Aww, couldn't you guess?" Tom replied with a hearty laugh, "I'm a zombie!"

Harry stepped forward, his plastic pointed fangs coming loose in his mouth as he smiled at her nervously. "And I'm meant to be a vampire."

Seven nodded thoughtfully, "I am familiar with the concept of vampires, they were used to express an underdeveloped human race's fears of disease and sexual deviance, but I do not know the origin of a "zombie"."

B'Elanna peered at her, surprised by her somewhat literal knowledge of the vampire myth. "Where did you hear about vampires? I'm pretty sure the Borg would've declared them irrelevant."

Seven nodded firmly, "They are irrelevant, but…" She sighed slightly, "The Doctor ordered me to read certain works of classical literature as part of my social lessons. One of them was Dracula by Bram Stoker."

Harry cleared his throat awkwardly, still trying to get over being put in the same category as diseases and sexual perverts. "And did you like it?"

Seven shrugged noncommittally, "Not particularly, although it has apparently enlightened me for this holiday tradition somewhat."

Tom shook his head vigorously, "You're not enlightened if you haven't heard of zombies!" he argued, chuckling to himself, "Although the Doctor probably thought the idea was a little too low-brow for you…"

"Tom!" B'Elanna interrupted impatiently, "Just explain it to her, but some of that B-movie trivia in your brain to use!"

"As you order Lieutenant." Tom teased, giving her a joking bow before turning back to Seven, "According to folklore, zombies are people who come back to life to eat other humans. Another name for them is "the walking dead" because they're not really alive, just driven by instinct."

Seeing Seven's face contort in revulsion, B'Elanna sighed in agreement. "It's all too ghoulish for me, half-Klingon or not."

"Is that why you are not engaging in the dressing up tradition Lieutenant?" Seven asked curiously. Many of the crewmembers currently in the Mess Hall had put even more of an effort into their costumes than Tom and Harry had, but B'Elanna staunchly remained in her regulation Starfleet uniform.

B'Elanna laughed, shooting Tom a teasing look. "I'm not dressed up because I'm a grown up, unlike this man-boy here!"

As Harry chortled in response to that and even Seven allowed herself a small laugh, Tom wrapped an arm around B'Elanna's waist and pulled her into his side, saying with mock defensiveness, "I did try my hardest to get her into a bunny outfit but she was having none of it…"

Seven frowned ponderously as B'Elanna playfully slapped Tom's arms away, "I do not understand. I was under the impression Halloween was supposed to be about fear, what is frightening about rabbits?"

Harry flushed as red as a beetroot at that question which made Tom and B'Elanna, who were already laughing, snort with hilarity. "I'll…I'll explain it to you later Seven."

* * *

Harry never did give her an explanation. As the party drew out towards midnight, guests, including Tom, B'Elanna and Harry, began to trickle out back to their quarters, mindful of duty shifts in the morning, but Seven, irrational as she knew it was, continued to linger in the Mess Hall. She wasn't ready to face the nightmares that she knew lurked within her alcove, and Astrometrics reminded her too starkly of her time with the Borg to soothe this particular mood she found herself in. So she sat alone at one of the tables, watching the few, less responsible members of Engineering's Gamma Shift, who wouldn't be working again until the next afternoon, enjoy getting progressively more inebriated. The fact that many species seemed to _relish_ the loss of control that alcohol brought on was deeply disturbing to her, after all, weren't inhibitions there to restrict dangerous behaviour? Why would anyone want to disregard them?

The touch of Neelix's hand on her shoulder pulled her out of reverie. "Good evening Seven, can I interest you in one of my Halloween themed smoothies? It's pumpkin and orange."

Seven winced slightly as he waved the tray of luridly orange glasses in front of her, but he looked so beseeching she gave in and selected a glass, taking a wary sip. "That is an…unusual concoction Neelix." She informed him carefully, rewarded with a beaming smile from the Talaxian. Actually, compared to some of his other culinary experiments this one was quite tolerable so she continued to drink as he replied.

"It is isn't it? But if I can't do it for Halloween, when can I?" Neelix said effusively, "Wait, I've got some pumpkin seed and cranberry cookies in the galley; I'll get some for you."

"Neelix…" Seven began to tell him not to bother but could only smile as she saw he'd already bustled away.

"No, the Borg are def…initely closer to zombies than vampires!" One of the Gamma shift group, Crewmen Russell, announced out of nowhere to his companions, "I mean, you basically die when you're assimilated…wight?" He asked, his voice slurring.

"Nah…" His friend, equally intoxicated, argued, "They swuck the life out of you…like wampires!"

One of their more sombre friends finally noticed Seven and had the grace to blush even as he swayed drunkenly. "No…no offence Seven…"

Seven _was _offended, the comparisons they'd made stirring up her emotions that were already disturbed by more serious events. Still, she refused on principle to reveal that to them. "How can I be offended with a discussion dissecting the merits of mythical creatures?" she asked coldly.

"Gawd…" Crewman Russell drawled, "Lighten up would you?" As he saw her stiffen, guilt flickered across his face and he decided to make amends, leaning over to his friend and whispering, "Vodka would do…the trick right?" Obligingly, his friend gave him a tray of the vodka mixers they'd been making out of Neelix's smoothies and he then dumped them on Seven's table. "I'm sorry about what I said, how about we have a toast to make up?"

Seven, affected by his apologetic tone, nodded shakily in agreement. "As you wish." She murmured, obediently following his lead as he downed the glass in one go. She immediately felt odd; this drink was different from her first one somehow. The liquid sliding down her throat burned but she kept swallowing anyway, the thoughts and memories that had been taunting her all day becoming pleasingly hazy. It didn't take much encouragement for her to pick up another glass.

"Commander, could you come to the Mess Hall? I need someone's assistance."

Chakotay straightened in his chair at Neelix's serious, worried, tone. "I'll be right there Neelix." He assured him, "Did that party get a little too much for you?"

"You could say that." Neelix replied pensively, "Please hurry Commander."

Chakotay reached the Mess Hall within minutes and as he walked inside was struck by one of the most shocking sights in his career. Seven of Nine, former Borg drone and one of the most reserved people he'd ever known, was sitting on the floor, lolling against a table, with her wild giggling only occasionally interrupted by a loud hiccup. "What the…" He gasped out, looking between a fretful Neelix and a few equally disorientated crewmembers for answers. "What happened here?"

Neelix wrung his hands anxiously. "I came back from the galley and she was like this! I didn't think the Captain would react well so I called you…"

"You did the right thing Neelix." Chakotay reassured him quickly, kneeling down in front of Seven and seeing at one that her normally keen blue eyes couldn't even follow the movement of his hand in front of her face. "She's drunk." He whispered in disbelief, "Why would she…" He frowned angrily, "She's told me before that she doesn't drink…"

"Come on Commander…" Russell groaned, unimpressed. "We only slipped some vodka in the smoothies to help her be…less Borg like."

Chakotay stood up to his full height, dwarfing Russell as he bristled with rage. "You _spiked_ her drinks?" He asked incredulously, horrified and staring down at the clueless Seven with new sympathy.

"You gotta admit Chakotay…" Russell spluttered, "She's a lot easier to get on with this way…"

Chakotay's hand clenched involuntarily into a fist but reined in his first impulse to slam his hand against his comm. badge. "Lieutenant Tuvok, could one of your security teams report to the Mess Hall? I need some people to be escorted to the Brig."

"Yes sir." Tuvok replied, making all of the troublemakers in the Mess Hall groan.

"Commander…" They started to complain in unison.

He glared at them darkly, enough to make them all freeze. "A stint in the Brig will do you good, give you time to sober up." He snarled, moving towards Seven and trying to guide her gently onto her feet. "Come on Seven, it's time to go…"

"Why?" she asked, blinking blearily, "It's pweasant here, besides…" She giggled to herself, "I cannot seem to…stand..." As if to prove her point, she stumbled back and it was only Chakotay's arms which kept her from falling onto her backside. That seemed to shock some sense into her for a moment, a frown passing over her face."What's wrong with me?"

"Some idiots spiked your drink." Chakotay answered as he pulled her upright and began to half carry her towards the doorway.

"Spiked?" she echoed in wonder. "The liquid didn't taste…sharp…" She mumbled in confusion.

In any other circumstances Chakotay might have chuckled at that, her grasp of human idioms was obviously even looser when she was drunk, but right now it made his heart hurt to think how vulnerable she was to just such a trick as this. "I just meant they put alcohol in your drink without you knowing about it." He told her softly as they reached the hallway, Seven wincing at the sound of Mess Hall doors shutting.

"Alcohol?" she cried out, shaking her head so vigorously that she almost lost her balance again. "Im…Impossible, I do not consume alcohol…I have a low tolerance…"

Chakotay gave her quivering frame a sympathetic squeeze as he held her up. "Don't worry, I'll help you get to Sickbay and the Doctor will make this all wear off for you. You might not even remember…" Seven abruptly went as stiff as a board in his arms, curling fearfully into his chest as she whimpered with sudden fear. "What's wrong?" he asked, completely mystified.

"I can't…I can't go to the Doctor! He'll hurt me…" She slurred, tears of panic filling her wide eyes.

Chakotay grabbed her by the shoulders. "What are you talking about Seven? The Doctor cares about you a great deal, he'd never hurt you…"

"He did…" She whispered brokenly, head low as tears streamed freely down her pale face.

Chakotay's brows furrowed as he tried to understand, an eureka moment coming quickly. "Are you talking about when you were on the Equinox?" he asked thickly, his throat constricting further as she nodded. He didn't know about the events of that day in detail from Seven or the Doctor's perspectives, they'd written reports but the Captain hadn't allowed him to read them, despite the fact that she'd been visibly disturbed by them herself. Seven might be able to expertly suppress the trauma under normal circumstances, but it was obviously surfacing with a vengeance now. He struggled to think of what he could suggest. "Look…" He murmured eventually, "I'll take you to my quarters and monitor you there; you don't need to see the Doctor at all."

Seven relaxed so much she almost sank to her knees, the tears changing into giggles again. "Thank…hic…you…Mr Commander…"

"Okay…" Chakotay muttered to himself as he heaved her upright again and led her towards his quarters, hoping he wouldn't regret this impulsive act of chivalry.

* * *

"So Seven…" Chakotay began awkwardly as he guided her towards his couch, which she sank into with impressive aplomb. "You want to tell me about what's going on with you and the Doctor?" He knew it was wrong to ask her something so serious while she was so incapacitated, but he knew she wouldn't do the opening up she obviously needed if he didn't coax her now.

"Okay…" She began slowly, gaze swivelling. "I forgive the Doctor…he and Ransom were like me and the Collective…"

"Yes…" Chakotay prompted gently, "I can see why you say that."

She nodded repeatedly, "Yes, I'm correct then to forgive…but…" She bit down on her lip hard and stared at Chakotay guiltily, "But I'm still _scared_ of him, scared of my…onwy fwiend…"

"Only friend?" Chakotay echoed after a pause to interpret her vodka soaked speech patterns, "Seven, that's not true at all, everyone on this ship is willing to be your friend…"

"Maybe." Seven admitted, rocking back and forth on the couch, "But they'd still leave me _alone_." She sighed heavily between another two hiccups, "I'm not a good fwiend anyway, I made the other drones in my adjunct suffer…" She trailed off, her gaze distant. "They will most likely be dead now." She stated, her pronouncement blunt even as she shook with sobs.

"Seven, we talked about that." Chakotay murmured, moving to sit beside her and pulling her shaking, frozen hands into his. "You weren't in control of your actions back then, you were a nineteen year old Borg drone, what you did is understandable. You can't keep blaming yourself."

"But I do…" She choked out wearily, "I'm glad that…you don't though." She gave him such an open, grateful smile at that moment that Chakotay was stunned, she really was beautiful. Alcohol was still derailing her train of thought though as she remarked after a long pause, "Those people, they said the Borg are like zombies. I researched it, I don't want to be dead and consuming people anymore…"

"They compared you to a zombie?" Chakotay choked out angrily, "Don't think like that, let alone repeat such garbage, alright?" He exhaled hard, surprised at how wound up he felt on her behalf.

"Alright!" she agreed cheerily, almost childlike.

Chakotay smiled at her encouragingly, "Good." He lay back on the couch, suddenly exhausted. "My God, I'm going to keep those guys in the Brig for as long as I can, what lowlifes…"

Seven laughed freely, shifting on the couch to watch him intently. He was very appealing to look at, especially when he smiled at her, that made her feel better than even the "spiked" drinks from earlier. Determined to look at him closer, she moved smoothly into his lap, placing her hand on his shoulders and gazing directly into his face as he stiffened in confusion. "You're…so much more…attractive than the holograms the Doctor makes me interact with, or Lieutenant Chapman…"She commented dreamily as she unconsciously leaned into him.

"Lieutenant Chapman huh?" Chakotay muttered awkwardly, trying to move out from underneath her to no avail. He choked back a chuckle at the surreal nature of this situation, knowing that he'd need to stop this before she embarrassed herself further. A small part could only mentally ask though, Lieutenant Chapman? The shyest guy on the ship? When has she ever interacted with him? Talk about irrelevant considering their present compromising position!

She lowered her gaze, "The Doctor's idea." She muttered detachedly, tugging at her hair, which had long since fallen free of its clasps. "I'm not attractive at all, my implants render me repulsive."

She said this so matter-of-factly that Chakotay flinched. "No, you're wrong about that." He assured her firmly, "You're _definitely_ still attractive."

"Oh…" She mumbled, looking at him gratefully again before showing her gratitude in an entirely different way, leaning forward and kissing him full on the lips, lingering for several seconds before pulling back, leaving Chakotay hot and breathless despite himself.

"Seven…" He forced out, his mind going blank as he stared at her totally innocent gaze. He cursed himself, if she hadn't realised her own attractiveness before she'd know about it now from where she sat squarely on his lap, practically straddling him. "I think its time for you to rest…"

"Hmm…" Seven mumbled, flopping onto his chest. "Ensign Kim never explained this to me but why are "bunny" costumes acceptable on Halloween, I'm not scared for rabbits at all…"

Chakotay nearly choked, she was really testing him, but then did all he could do, chuckled, though it left his throat more huskily than it should have. "Bunny costumes are for another type of Halloween party altogether, one that Neelix certainly won't be throwing." He sighed, the question having affected his shameless body like a cold shower. He was the sober one here, he had to be responsible. "Right." He declared, standing up and taking her with him, she was surprisingly light, almost frail. "I'm going to have to take you somewhere to sleep this off." Seeing his bedroom as the only option right now, he couldn't just abandon her in the Cargo Bay, he began to walk, stiffening as Seven's legs wrapped around him instinctively as he tried to carry her. Laughing was the only release of his embarrassment, "You really know how to test a gut's self-control don't you?" he muttered gently as they reached the bed.

"Mmm…" Seven mumbled sleepily into his shoulder, not resisting as he lowered her onto the bed. He stepped back swiftly, trying not to think about how mortified the poor woman would be in the morning. He watched her curl her long frame into a tiny defensive ball, like a cat before stepping away to retreat back to the couch where he'd obviously need to make his bed for the night.

**A/n: Yes, it's farfetched, but I hope I didn't take **_**too **_**many liberties with the characters, I've been tempted to write a drunken scene for a while. Is this okay for T or should I bump it up to M? It was a little suggestive in places… Anyway, tell me what you think! Do you want a second chapter? PLEASE REVIEW! :D **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/n: Thank you so much everyone for your wonderful support of the first chapter, I was really pleased! I know I'm a little late, Halloween is past now after all, but this week was loaded with uni work. Anyway, please enjoy! :)**

The throbbing in her head was so constant, so inescapable, that it even began to rouse Seven of Nine from her heavy sleep. Her human eye twitched open first, closing again almost immediately as the pain in her skull brutally sharpened. She couldn't hold wakefulness back forever though; soon a dull awareness of other discomforts, stiffness in her back, pins and needles prickling her arms, a vile taste clogging her mouth, forced her into consciousness with a long-suffering groan. Hearing that sound, and realising it came from her own lips, set off alarm bells in the more rigid parts of Seven's psyche, something wasn't normal. Both of her eyes shot open now, the human one's vision was blurry, but her optical implant gave her a clear view of the ceiling hanging over her. She was lying down; she didn't regenerate lying down… Panic pushed sluggish confusion aside in her brain and she sat up abruptly, immediately regretting it as the world around her began to whirl like a kaleidoscope and nausea grasped her stomach tightly in its merciless grasp before gleefully twisting it. Surrendering to necessity, she slumped back against what she now realised was a bed. She had to wait until her inexplicably hypersensitive senses settled enough before she tentatively rolled onto her side to look around, being able to sit up was obviously too much to ask of her body at the moment. Bemusement, then anxiety, flooded her as she recognised Voyager's typical bedroom layout, she was in someone's quarters! What _possible_ reason could she have for being in a crewmate's quarters, let alone_ sleeping _in them? That thought brought the idea of a human euphemism unwillingly to mind and she flushed, her breath quickening in fright. The relief that she felt upon seeing that she was still dressed in the biosuit she last remembered putting on was immense, although said outfit showed clearly that it _had_ indeed been slept in. Even her high heeled boots were still on her feet and the fact that she was lying on top of a duvet rather than under it put that certain possibility to rest. What had really happened to her then? She mentally groped around for her last memory, but the only thing she could clearly recall was a conversation with Lieutenant Paris about zombies, and without any context that in itself was mystifying.

Determination steadied her enough to allow her to prop herself up with her hands, although they were pretty numb from taking the weight of her sleeping head. A blanket had at some point been placed over her, she became aware of It, and the cold, as she moved and it slid off her. Unconsciously, she stroked the thick wool, somewhat reassured by this sign of concern but even more confused. As she slowly began to lower her shaky legs off the side of the bed, she noticed a plastic bowl sitting waiting on the floor. Just looking down at it triggered the gag reflex and she had to hurriedly put her head between her knees as nausea tortured her. The bowl had been put there pre-emptively apparently, but she _refused_ to use it on principle, no level of nausea would induce her to vomit in a fellow crewmate's quarters! Thankfully, she managed to keep that resolution as eventually the nausea slowed to a tolerable level and her vision ceased spinning. She stood up, leaning on the wall every few steps as she headed towards the doorway.

* * *

The sound of a sharp intake of breath pulled Chakotay's attention away from the PADD he was reading and he had to stop himself echoing it as he saw Seven hovering in the threshold to his bedroom, so paralysed with shock, her mouth hanging open, that if the situation hadn't been so serious it would've been funny. "Comm…Commander?" she choked out, her voice somehow managing to be faint with disbelief and stridently shrill at the same time. Her blue eyes tried to scan the room frantically but due to the brightness of the light she was reduced to squinting painfully. "What…what am I doing in your quarters?"

Chakotay stood up slowly, as if to avoid startling a wild animal, and tried to look as reassuring as he could, though he doubted she'd react well. "You got into a little trouble last night Seven. You were highly intoxicated and I couldn't in good conscience leave you on your own." He explained as gently as she could.

She stiffened even further, her knuckles turning white as she gripped the wall. "Intoxicated?" she repeated in disbelief, an angry edge to her voice. Chakotay had enough sense not to be offended by her tone and instead nodded wordlessly as she began to look at herself suspiciously. He could practically see the memories rushing into her as her complexion turned even paler than her already sickly pallor before abruptly darkening to blood red. Another strangled gasp left her throat as she ducked her head, hiding behind her loose hair. "I…I was highly disorientated, nonsensical…" She muttered brokenly, her posture instantly changing from defensive to dejectedly embarrassed, her proud, tall frame shrinking in on itself. "You have my sincerest apologies Commander…" She choked out, the words stumbling over themselves in the rush to leave her mouth as she thought of the fact that she'd slept and very narrowly avoiding vomiting in her direct superior's own bedroom. "I will leave…"

Chakotay caught her by the arm as she tried to stumble towards the door, wincing with her as she reacted to the unexpected jar. "It's okay Seven." He told her firmly, "This wasn't your fault, not at all. If you remember, this wasn't even self-inflicted, a few…" He stopped himself from using too colourful a phrase, though those men deserved it, as he met Seven's horrified eyes, "…of our less admirable crewmates put vodka in your drinks as a sick joke."

Seven found herself staring at the hand he had clamped around her arm, it reminded her of something, and she still couldn't bring herself to look him directly. "Be that as it may, whatever happened to induce the behaviour, it was still inexcusable!"

Chakotay allowed himself a tiny chuckle, "Seven, if getting drunk is an unforgivable sin nearly every single person on this ship is going straight to hell." She paused for a moment before her frown deepened and she withdrew from him even further. Although he was relieved she was back to normal, seeing her withdrawn, self-punishing habits reassert themselves made him miss the open, trusting young woman he'd met the night before. "Look, don't beat yourself up about it. If it makes you feel any better, you're a very good natured drunk, you didn't do anything wrong."

Seven sighed unhappily, "Your definition of wrong and my own may be very different." She mumbled, rubbing her stinging eyes.

"Maybe." Chakotay conceded with an equally heavy sigh before noting her obvious discomfort and saying smoothly to the Computer, "Computer, dim lights."

Seven's headache eased instantly as the glare of the lights lessened. "Thank you Commander." She whispered gratefully, her shame increasing.

"Light sensitivity is a common side effect of a hangover." Chakotay replied, "You'll probably feel pretty terrible for the rest of the day."

Seven only nodded, not considering this the right situation to ask why humans bothered with alcohol at all if it made them feel this bad afterwards. "If this wasn't my own doing, why didn't you take me to the Doctor for treatment?"

Chakotay felt his eyebrows rise, surprised she didn't remember. "I tried to, but you didn't want to see him and got very upset."

Seven's head shot up with a jerk, "I told you why?" she asked, though from the dread in her tone he could tell she'd now remembered.

"About the Equinox? Yes, you did." Chakotay confirmed, "You were quite…" He felt a blush coming up his own cheeks, "…talkative."

Seven swallowed hard, straightening as she tried to hold on to whatever dignity she had left in his eyes. "I apologise, I had no right to expect you to…"

"Seven, you needed my help." Chakotay interrupted, "You needed someone to monitor you and at the time you needed a listening ear too, you've apologised enough when you did nothing wrong."

Seven remembered the consideration he'd shown her so far and decided to accept his word. "Thank you for your assistance, I obviously needed it." She admitted before her eyes fell on the couch, still made up with a pillow and a couple of blankets. "I…I relegated you from your own bed to the couch?" she asked, mortified.

Chakotay laughed good-humouredly, "I've slept in worse places for worse reasons, don't worry." He assured her, watching as all of the strength seemed to drain from Seven's legs and she sank onto the very same couch unthinkingly. "About the Doctor, and anything else, if you want to talk…"

Seven stiffened, her blue eyed gaze hardening to a defensive grey. "If you wish Commander."

Chakotay gave a start at her resigned tone. "I'm not ordering you Seven, not at all, I'm just giving you the choice to talk if you want to." She appeared surprised by that, making him wonder what methods the Captain and the Doctor had used to coerce her to talk before. Her answer went unspoken.

Seven was soon distracted by the disconcerting images that sitting on this couch brought to her brain. They were so…embarrassing that she didn't want to believe they were memories, but once glance at Chakotay, who she now saw was nervously watching her now, told her they were true. She didn't have much time to recover from that before Chakotay suddenly placed a tray on the coffee table in front of her. Just the thought of food, without even looking at it properly, made her stomach churn anew. "I do not think I can…"

"You can." Chakotay cut in as he sat down across from her, cradling a cup of tea, "I know you feel sick, but eating will actually make you feel better, I promise."

Seven eyed the food on the tray apprehensively. There was the obligatory glass of water, essential to combat alcohol's dehydrating effects, but also a bowl of rice krispies, a foodstuff she recognised from eating breakfast with Naomi Wildman, and several thick slices of toast, alternately spread with jam or marmalade. Normally she would have avoided such sugary indulgences, but she had to admit that right now they appealed to her. Warily, she picked up a slice of toast and nibbled it. "Your theory is correct." She conceded softly, after allowing herself another three slices.

Chakotay gave her an encouraging grin. "I know it does from hard experience, those are my hangover foods of choice from my days at the Academy. I thought about giving you coffee, almost everyone swears by that, but I don't think either of us likes that much, from what I've heard from the Captain."

Seven nodded in confirmation, "I do not like the taste. I can see that a caffeine high may disguise the effect of alcohol intoxication but not help alleviate it in the long term."

"See, you're learning already." Chakotay remarked pleasantly, "Do you want anything else?"

Seven shook her head, bowing over her knees in shame. "You are too kind to me Commander."

Chakotay's heart hurt as he realised that she wasn't saying the words as a polite platitude, but instead truly meant them. "There's no such thing." He answered, cautiously approaching her and sitting on the other side of the couch. He could tell she remembered what had last happened between them there, her position was excessively chaste, feet and legs together, head bowed to hide the deepening blush. Despite himself, he found his own throat going a little dry as he tried to continue. "You're doing fine you know, this was just a blip, and so was your experiences on the Equinox and with the other Borg, but it would help to deal with them, talk to the Doctor."

"I will." Seven murmured sincerely, meeting his gaze now as her lips twitched with a sad wryness, "Although I may wait until the effects of last night are undetectable by his tricorder."

Chakotay smiled in agreement. "That might be a good move, I've had enough lectures myself."

Seven's eyebrows arched curiously, "You've been as drunk as I was?"

Chakotay laughed at the incredulity in her voice, was he really that uptight now? "Of course! Maybe not here on Voyager but plenty of other times. You're just catching up on the rest of us who were able to have a few hard-partying years."

"That's one thing I don't regret missing." Seven murmured.

"That's probably wise." Chakotay replied kindly, although the comment pained him somehow. "By the way, the only other person who saw you last night was Neelix, and he won't say anything. I'm not going to tell the Captain."

Seven's voice, through steady and awkward, was thick with gratitude. "I appreciate that." She fell silent for a moment or so, "What about the men who did this to me?"

Chakotay's face darkened with wrath, "Don't worry, they'll not be saying anything, but I'll let them stew in the Brig for a few hours, what _they_ did was inexcusable."

Seven nodded as she stood up. "I hope they will not do it again."

"No." Chakotay said determinedly as he went with her to the door, "You'll be alright getting to the Cargo Bay?"

"I believe so." Seven assured him, "A day of regenerating should correct this."

"If so then I wish I could regenerate!" Chakotay joked before looking down at her seriously, "I'm always here if you need anything, and not just help with being drunk either okay?"

Seven fought her blush as she met his honest gaze. "I know." She murmured with a small smile as she stepped out of the door.

**A/n: PLEASE REVIEW! :D I hope the ending didn't disappoint you! Thanks to all of the readers, favouriters and followers, but especially to the reviewers of the last chapter: Teal06, NikkiB1973, Sweetdeath04, Jedi Master Misty Sman-Esay, CelestialPoet, battlevalkyrie, LoveAngelKAS, Soujiku and the two guest reviewers. I really appreciate it. :)**


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